Noblesse Oblige
by Ambrose51
Summary: A prequel of sorts to another story of mine. Assassins roam the city, killing at will, but all is not as it seems. Mistrust and suspicion is rampant, and politics has never looked so bad to a Legionnaire wavering in his loyalty.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **_I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**Noblesse Oblige**

**_Act One_**

_Chapter One_

Lucius walked through the Legion headquarters in the Imperial City, watching several Knights in the middle of a heated argument. It seemed that they were debating whether or not to bother reporting something to Commander Surius Avitus. From the sound of things, they had discovered a murder and knew who the murderer was, but were afraid to say anything about it. Lucius passed them by. It wasn't any of his concern. It also seemed to him that if they were afraid of reporting the murderer, that that person must be in a position of power, and Lucius had no wish to get involved in politics. All he wanted to do is continue his work and get back to his wife and baby girl, of whom he'd been worrying excessively about lately.

He had been having a series of disturbing dreams, of vived colors and flashing lights. It looked like blood splashed across the darkness, with a glowing form in the middle of it all that gave off a faint, red aura. Then the vision would fade, but before waking in a cold sweat he would see images of the broken body of his wife, her head being cradled in Selena's small arms. It was a sight that never failed to give him chills.

He continued down the bustling hall, narrowly managing to jump out of the way of a small Bosmer who was running towards him with a pile of paperwork in his hands. He shouted an apology back to him, only to run straight into another man coming around a corner. Lucius shook his head in amusement as papers flew everywhere, then continued on his way, briefly stopping to look out the window at the training grounds. Hundreds of wannabe soldiers were trying desperately to form a line as their instructors shouted and cursed at them in five different languages. On the other side of the field the actual soldiers were training, wielding weapons of all shapes and sizes, from spears to daggers. And at the gate to the Market District, dozens of people were dragging carts and leading horses in and out with supplies and merchandise for the weary soldiers. Which is to say a bunch of scam artists trying to cheat men too tired to think out of their money. Which they succeeded in, more often than not.

Lucius had never been fooled by cheap tricks though. He was an honest man with a family to feed, and couldn't afford to think about the petty pleasures those street vendors provided. No, Lucius Jucanis was as straight as they came, and would never sink that low. Unless he had had a few drinks. Then he might go a bit lower. But his beautiful Lydia was understanding of such events, in the special way that wives can be, in that they can understand yet look murderous at the same time.

He made his way deeper into the building, eventually reaching an area lit only by torch-light. He was getting to the command center now. As he neared the giant oak doors, he spotted two familiar faces standing in front of them, waiting. His old friend, Orson, a newly promoted Knight Bachelor in his special ordered silver armor that managed to glint even in near darkness. How he had managed to have it shipped so fast from Morrowind Lucius had no idea, though he did sometimes wonder if Monica, Orson's wife and permanent object of both his obsession and love, might have some powerful connections. He had heard that her grandfather was on the Elder Council, though he had never seen proof.

The other figure was the cheery form of Trooper Rufius Capito, who, according to Lydia, was distantly related to him. He hadn't yet come of age, and it showed when you looked at him. His raven hair was cropped as per Legion standard, and his armor was a smaller and more battered version of Lucius's own. His bright, green eyes stared up hopefully at his superior. Unfortunately, the boy was far too hopeful for his own good, and the general air of happiness he exuded irritated him. Lucius had never met him before he had been assigned to him, and he suspected that saying they were related was just Lydia's way of trying to make him be nice to the boy, since he had been assigned to him as his personal assistant. Not that Lucius wanted an assistant, but such curses came with the rank of Knight Bachelor. Soon Orson would have his very own annoying assistant as well.

He stopped before the two and gave them a curious glance. "Alright, what are you two doing here, and should I be concerned?"

Orson scratched the back of his head, then shrugged. "I don't know. I was ordered to come here. No explanation, though it's not as if the Centurions need them."

Without being asked, as usual, Rufius piped in with his own opinion. "I heard the Commanders are here too! I've never been in a room with anyone higher than a Knight rank before. Do you suppose they want us for a secret mission or something cool like that?"

Lucius just gave him a look that spoke volumes, and Rufius immediately quieted down. But if what he said was true, and if they were about to walk into a room filled with Centurions, Commanders, and Generals, something had to be up. Something that probably wouldn't end well for them. _Oh well. Best to get it over with._

Lucius made his way past the two and opened the doors, then gestured for the other two to follow him as he walked inside. The room was well lit, though Lucius would have preferred it dark. Then he wouldn't have been able to see all the important faces. Surius Avitus, Modius Bulba, Terentius Lucenus, and even the newest Centurion, Adamus Phillida.

He knew, even as he went stiff that he had gone pale. He imagined that Orson was taking it with more grace than him, but he didn't even dare to think about what might be going through the mind of young Rufius right now. All of them were seated at a large, half-circle table of stone, and they were all clothed in the most expensive and flashy garments money could buy. More politics and attempts to show off. Lucius hated show-offs. So by extension, he hated three-quarters of the population of Cyrodiil.

It was only years of training in case this unlikely event might ever occur that made him bow. And when he did, he bowed so low that it hurt his back to do it in his plate armor. Orson no doubt managed a more flowing one, with his special Morrowind armor that he would be willing to bet was gleaming brighter than ever. He knew how these things worked. _Bow low, it's a sign of respect, and for Gods' sake stay silent until spoken to, lest they decide you unfit and have you killed, or worse, demoted. _

Unfortunately, Rufius wasn't bright enough to understand this and interrupted the silence with a cheerful sounding question. "So, what can we do for you, milords?"

All eyes, including those of Orson and Lucius, turned to him. Lucius watching the color drain from his face as he backed away and managed a high-pitched apology. Even as Lucius was mentally cursing the young Trooper for his obvious mistake, one of the men at the table cleared his throat. It was one of the ones that Lucius didn't recognize, though he did note with some surprise that the man was actually a Dunmer.

"You have been summoned here today to discuss a matter of some importance. Well, two of you were. The third as I've come to understand showed up of his own accord."

At that, all eyes again turned to Rufius. Lucius could have sworn that he heard him whimpering.

"This matter is one I suggest you all keep secret. Before you leave this room, you will sign a document that shall later be presented to High Chancellor Ocato so that the Emperor may sign his approval."

No one said anything at that. It was common knowledge among the higher ranks that Uriel was nothing more than a figurehead, and that Ocato and the Elder Council held all the real power. Oh sure the Emperor could still make decisions on his own but, they rarely if ever were implemented with any sort of enthusiasm by the Council. Ocato essentially controlled everything that came in and out of the Palace. The only thing the Emperor still had sway over were his personal bodyguards and agents, the Blades. Lucius was certain that at least one of the men in this room held a secret position with them, so no one could say such slanderous things out loud. But at this point, it was one of those things that don't need to be spoken to be understood.

"The task of you two, Lucius Jucanis and Orson Ashcroft, shall be to hunt down a serial killer that has recently been sweeping across the Imperial City. Before you ask, no, this cannot be put into the hands of simple guards. These are not commoners dying, they are _important_ people. People of nobility and rank. Even nobles from the other provinces, here as representatives of their respective groups interests."

Orson stepped forward to address the gathered Generals, a bold move even for him. "Excuse me sirs, but if I may ask, why us?"

Surius Avitus stirred in his seat and replaced the Dunmer as the speaker, since he was at a temporary loss for words on the question. "Because you two have proven reliable, ambitious, and loyal. You may not be the best young men to come out of this Academy, but you have earned your spot in the Legion and deserve your shot at glory. This will be it. Accomplish this mission and you'll both make Captain."

In his mind, Lucius took apart his words and inserted his own._ Because you're troublesome, overreaching, and loyal to the people. Not the best to come out of the Academy, but still existing, making for the perfect tools. No one in the Legion will miss us if we fail, and if we succeed, our new, shiny rank of Captain can always be taken away later for some trivial oversight._

A grim expression settled on Lucius's face, though Orson's brightened at the mention of the word Captain. He wasn't politically savvy enough to see the fine print. All he saw was a chance at making life better for him and Monica. _More's the pity._

"We'll do whatever you ask us to, of course! Who was the last person killed?"

Adamus Phillida, the newly promoted Centurion, rose from his seat. "My father."

He sat back down as another uncomfortable silence reigned in the room. Terentius Lucenus cleared his throat and rose to address them as well. "Centurion Phillida shall be assisting you in this matter. He has assured me that his personal stake in this mission won't affect his decisions."

Yeah right. What did he do to anger the higher ups? He must know that this mission is a death-trap. _M__aybe they want him as a scapegoat if things go bad and two Knight Bachelors aren't high enough ranks to blame._

Orson again stepped forward to ask a question. "Do you have any suspects, any leads?"

Terentius's eyes narrowed and he sat back down, not wishing to be a part of this particular discussion. Surius glanced at him in annoyance, then got up to answer the question, though his voice had turned weary. "We're not sure who the killers are as there's no clear evidence at any of the crimes. They're completely clean. No traces whatsoever. I'm sure you're aware that there's only one group operating in Cyrodiil capable of such a thing. The Dark Brotherhood."

The air chilled at the very mention of their name. Universally hated and feared by all forms of law enforcement all over Tamriel. The Dark Brotherhood were a secret sect of assassins, so skilled in their art that their victims never know about them until the knife is protruding from their chests. Before he could stop himself, Lucius visibly shuddered, while Orson went pale, the enthusiasm draining from his face. Rufius had gone from fear to pure terror at the thought of fighting the Dark Brotherhood, and was now shaking.

Surius grinned faintly as he continued. "You three, Lucius Jucanis, Orson Ashcroft, and Adamus Phillida, shall investigate this group and arrest its members. You may kill them if need be, but we would prefer them alive. Your aids may assist you, of course. Since you have been so recently promoted, Knight Bachelor Ashcroft, one shall be assigned to you."

Surius took his seat again, while this time the pudgy figure of Modius Bulba rose to say his bit. "You all will of course, have the full cooperation of all branches of the Imperial Legion, however, for your own safety your mission must be kept secret. No one shall be told of your target, am I understood? The only people you may tell are those key to your operation and those will be few and far between. We shall be making our leave now. You shall stay here and await the necessary documents. We must always follow procedure, you understand. May Talos guide your path."

The various high ranking members of the Legion rose from their seats and left the room, except for Adamus Phillida, who had remained seated with his head held in his hands. It wasn't particularly long until a man came in with some papers and quills, though that short span of time was enough for Lucius to contemplate several reasons for early retirement. The man handed him his papers, and he numbly walked over to the table and began signing. There wasn't even a need to look at the fine print. It didn't get any more obvious than 'Hey, go over and die during this investigation so we can look like we're doing something.'

He handed the papers back to the young man after he finished and noticed that Orson was signing with a shaking hand. He was surely weighing the pros and cons of this assignment. There was a definite chance of death, dismemberment, and just general pain, the fact that they would almost certainly be demoted if they failed and returned without harm, and of course just how long it would take to make any sort of progress in tracking down the Dark Brotherhood. As for the pros... Well, Lucius was sure that he'd manage to think of some somewhere along the line. Hopefully.

As soon as he was finished, Rufius fled the room, perhaps to go cry in a corner somewhere, perhaps to change his name, or perhaps, if he had any steel in him at all, to go make preparations with his family. Adamus finished his with a calm and steady hand, his eyes impassive and a new-found look of determination on his face. He rose from his chair and swiftly left, his Centurion's cape fluttering behind him. He nodded to them before closing the door behind him.

The young man with the papers departed soon after, leaving Orson and Lucius alone together in the room. Lucius patted him on the shoulder and motioned that they should leave, but Orson just stood there.

"Are you okay?"

Orson turned and walked past him, opening the great door. "It's not me I'm worried about," he said before leaving.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Lucius alone in the room. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, hoping that this assignment might just be another bad dream. He understood what Orson meant. He wasn't worried about himself, he was worried about Monica. What would happen to her if he died? What would happen to Lydia and Selena if Lucius himself were to die? Lucius didn't plan on finding out.

He turned and walked out, hurriedly moving through the halls and back to the natural light. He hated going this deep into the building. It always felt like he was in a cave. He preferred to have sunlight shining down on him than having to rely on torches or spells to light his path. He barely passed anyone until he reached the main level where sunlight streamed through the windows. There, everything was bustling with people running back and forth carrying important papers or equipment. He ignored them all and left the building, once again passing the arguing Knights who still hadn't come to a decision. Lucius almost interfered this time but, all he wanted to do right now was get home.

He entered the courtyard and made quick strides towards the towering gate that separated the Imperial Academy from the rest of the mercurial city. He passed many of the lesser ranks who were in the middle of training, and when he approached them, they stopped what they were doing to salute, bringing their fist over their chest and standing straight. Lucius strode right past them, not even slowing down.

He shouldered his way past the merchants and tricksters that had gathered near the gates to sell their cheap, fake wares, and gave any that got in his way a glare that promised jail time if they hindered him. He passed under the shadow of the arch and through the gates into the Market District, immediately entering a different world. If things in the Academy were busy, then the Market District was hectic.

Hundreds of people were walking in the streets, some closely leading children, some carrying crates, some carrying food or clothing or, anything really, since there's nothing _not_ available to buy in the Market District. And here and there standing to the side and watching the mess, stood the members of the Imperial Watch. The Watch were an odd bunch, and not a group Lucius was eager to deal with. They were arrogantly ambitious and far too harsh with their punishments, often killing first and asking questions never. They wouldn't dare try to stop him for anything though. He was a _real_ Legionnaire and they all knew full well that someone of his rank could have any of them sacked at a moments notice. Thus, when he knocked over a man carrying a basket of corn in his haste, even when that man was shouting obscenities at him as he walked away as if he hadn't noticed, the guards didn't even move from their posts.

He made his was further down the street noticing that the bars were beginning to fill up, meaning that it must be around noon. _All the workers taking their breaks._

The crowd was beginning to thin a bit and the noise subsided only to be replaced by the shouts of great deals from the street vendors. Not a bit true, any of it. He would think that it would be obvious to anyone that there's no such thing as a down on his luck man selling genuine diamond rings for a cheap, cheap price. But some people buy into such things, hoping beyond hope that it might be genuine, and when they are proven wrong, well, then they call the Watch. Of course there was nothing they could do as legally, they had bought the merchandise and after all, the merchant had never signed a contract saying they were real diamond rings.

Hope was the bane of humanity. Hope encouraged scoundrels to lie, cheat, and steal, and it encouraged fools to buy into them. It encouraged generals to lead their troops into a hopeless war and inspired soldiers to follow them to their deaths. It inspired people to go out and blow their money on a gamble, and to keep trying even though it was obvious that they were only digging themselves a deeper hole. Hope, one of the purest aspects of the human condition, would kill them all one day.

He walked down the street and left the bustle of the Market District to enter the quieter area of the Elven Gardens. There were still people in the street here and there, mostly children playing, but it was far more peaceful. Nevertheless, he continued his brisk walk until he reached a side alley that he quickly turned into. There was still a bit of sunlight shining down between the buildings, but it was noticeably darker. He went past three doors then turned left and took a key from a pocket of his uniform, then turned the key and entered his out of the way home and noticed the silence. Selena would no doubt be with her mother shopping at this time of day.

He made his way through the dark house and up the stairs to the second floor. He entered his bedroom and closed the blinds, then stripped off his armor and laid it next to the bed. He grabbed a tunic out of his dresser and put it on, then allowed himself to fall onto his bed. He stared up through the darkness at the stone ceiling until he fell asleep to be greeted once again by the nightmares.

* * *

_A shadow walked across the floor of the spacious room, carefully eying the sleeping figure in the bed. The sound of the rustle of robes echoed across the room, waking the man from his peaceful slumber. He pulled a dagger out from under his pillow, making a sharp noise as the silver was drawn from its sheath. He looked carefully around the room for any movement, but saw nothing. Sighing with relief, he put the dagger back under his pillow and lowered his head back down. He closed his eyes with a contented smile, but immediately opened them again to find himself staring up at a dark, hooded figure._

_His hand scrambled back towards the dagger, but the figure raised a fist and a bright light flashed from his palm, freezing his body in place. Only his eyes could move, and they frantically searched for a way out. There was none, and he could only watch in horror as the figure removed a glove from his hand and left it hovering over his head._

_"Dear, dear, Mr. Surius Avitus, what have you been doing? You haven't been getting curious, have you? Don't you know that curiosity killed the guard? Lets take a look at that brain of yours and see what you've been up to."_

_As his eyes swept back and forth in terror, he felt his mouth just barely move and a sound vaguely like a squeak come from it. The hovering hand turned into a pointed finger, and descended until it was touching his forehead. Then came the pain. The terrible, excruciating pain. A ripple, like water, swept across his forehead as the finger went into his head and a strange, pulsating energy wrapped around the hooded man's arm. Then, as soon as it had started, the pain went away and the man's hand retracted. He carefully put his glove back and stared down at Surius._

_"So that's your plan, is it? How clever. Unfortunately, I think there will need to be some changes. There are some details of that plan that might interfere with mine, and that simply won't do. But don't worry, Mr. Avitus. I'll take care of it all for you. Or rather, I'll take care of it, and you'll think you had. But that would be so very painful for you, so why don't you sleep."_

_Surius felt his eyes flutter close as the man removed his hood and grinned at him. The hand was coming down again. Then, before the experience could rob him of his sanity, he fell into a blissful slumber._

**A/N: **_And here is my sort of much anticipated prequel to a Cloak of Lies, which I'll probably be putting a lot more effort into now that I have the hang of things. If you've read A Cloak of Lies, then you may have a better grasp of events than those who haven't, but it's not necessary to do so to understand the story. I also plan on making this much longer, and I'm hoping to hit one-hundred thousand words at the very least, in four acts, each defining a specific phase of Lucius's life._

_I'd like to point out, though it should be obvious, that I've enlarged the Imperial City and added the Imperial Academy, where Legion soldiers are trained. Maybe it's just me, but that's something I'd expect out of a city that big. Also, the actual main quest won't be coming until waaaay down the line, and when it finally arrives, don't expect it to be a carbon copy. I plan on changing quite a few things. Not the events themselves, but the actions that take place in said events, and perhaps the order that they take place in. Basically, I'm revamping it to fit my story._

_Also, unlike A Cloak of Lies, which shifted perspectives a lot, I plan on keeping this almost permanently focused on Lucius, with any other things shown through dreams or such things, like the last section of this chapter._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**Noblesse Oblige**

**_Act One_**

_Chapter Two_

Lucius awoke to the sound of a crash downstairs. He had no idea what time it was, but since Lydia was lying next to him, he imagined it was night. He had slept far too long, and should have woken up earlier, yet for some reason he hadn't. Perhaps it was because of the dreams. He couldn't be worrying about that now though. If Lydia was beside him, then that crash had come from a different source. And Selena wasn't old enough to be wandering through the house yet.

He got out of bed, being careful to avoid waking Lydia in the darkness, and grabbed his sword. He walked out of the room into the unlit hallway and quietly closed the door behind him, then unsheathed his sword with a rasping noise and left the sheath on the the ground. He crept through the long hall and down the stairs to the main level, immediately noticing that the front door was open. His eyes flashed across the room, quickly becoming adjusted to the lack of light, but all he saw was the remains of a vase scattered across the floor. Someone had knocked it over after breaking in. At first, he though that maybe the burglar had left, but then he heard a noise from his office.

He walked across the room and grasped the handle, slowly turning it as he prepared to kill the invader. He opened it quickly and moved inside, his blade flashing through the air and hitting something solid. There was a ripping noise and a cry of fear, then someone stumbled backwards and fell, hitting his head on Lucius's desk.

As the man struggled to get back up, Lucius's sword flashed through the air once again. The point ended up under the man's chin, and Lucius lifted his sword, making the man carefully rise with it. He was cloaked in the darkness, with a black mask, and Lucius couldn't make out any of his features. "Give me a good reason not to cut your throat right now, and maybe I'll just hand you over to the Watch."

"Would you believe me if I said this was just a test?" The voice had a strange tone to it, unlike any man's that Lucius had ever heard. It sounded like an Orc's, but that was impossible. _Who's ever heard of an Orc thief?_

"A test for what, exactly?"

"Umm... Err... Well you see... A test to join the Thieves Guild." The last bit was rushed out so quickly that Lucius barely caught it.

Much to the thief's surprise, Lucius began to laugh, lowering his sword as he did so. The thief breathed a sigh of relief that turned to a whimper when the laughter stopped and the blade pressed against the side of his throat.

"No, I wouldn't," Lucius said, the coldness of his speech reflected in his eyes.

"Oh please, sir, don't kill me. Just let me go. I only have two chances, but if I get arrested, they won't help me. I'll be stuck in prison for who knows how long."

"I'd say about ten days. That's how long you'd be in jail for _attempted_ theft," Lucius said, glancing at the remains of the book the thief had been trying to steal. "Why was that important enough for you to try and break into the house of a Knight of the Imperial Legion?"

If it was possible to hear someone's eyes widen, Lucius would have been hearing it then. "You're in the Legion? They didn't tell me that! All they said was to find this house and take the book."

"Of course. Take off that mask."

The thief obeyed, taking note that the blade still hadn't moved from his throat. If anything, it was getting closer to killing him. Lucius was surprised to see that the thief really was an Orc. In all his years of service, he had never once seen an Orc turn to theft. Murder with a warhammer, perhaps, or vandalism, but not theft. If Lucius was any judge, the Orc was young as well. No more than twenty.

He let his sword drop and motioned for the Orc to leave. He looked on in incredulous shock. "You're going to let me go?"

"It's quite the rarity to see something like this. So just this once, I'll let you go. An Orc attempted to steal is always an interesting sight. Now get out of here and don't bother me again with this nonsense."

The Orc eagerly obeyed and rushed out. Lucius turned to go up the stairs, only to see Lydia standing there holding his sword's sheath. She handed it to him silently. He put his sword away as she began speaking in her soft, gentle tone. "You didn't spare him for his own good, did you?"

Lucius cast a sideways glace at her as he walked upstairs. He could hear her quiet footsteps behind him. "No. If that Orc makes it into the Thieves Guild, and I sincerely hope he does, he's bound to make a mistake at some point and get captured. When that happens, we might be able to learn something actually useful about those nuisances. They've been annoying the Watch for years, and it's painful to see them stumbling around taking reports about thefts that can never be solved. And if the Orc actually ends up never being caught or doesn't make it in, well, what difference will it make?"

Lucius opened the door to his room and proceeded to put his armor on, piece by piece, much to the surprise of his wife. "You're leaving in the middle of the night?"

"I've slept too long. I'm going out to see if the Night Watch needs any help. I imagine they do. Crime in this city never stops."

"Will you be home in time to meet Orson and Monica? You know we're supposed to have breakfast with them in the morning."

"I'll be home by then, don't worry. And apologize to Selena for not seeing her today, will you? I'll do my best to be home tomorrow and spend all day with her."

Lydia smiled and kissed him before he left, then went back to bed. He closed the door behind him as he buckled his sword to his waist. He went downstairs and out the door, but inspected the lock first to make sure there was no damage. As inept at sneaking as the Orc had been, he obviously knew how to pick a lock. Lucius sincerely hoped he hadn't made a mistake in letting him go.

* * *

Lucius walked down the road, his steel boots making a clinging sound on the stone road. He walked quickly and calmly out of the Elven Gardens and into the Market District. Before long, he had found a crate to sit on, and wasted no time in doing so. Even he didn't want to be walking around the city alone at night. As he watched the streets dimly lit by fading torches, his mind went back to his dreams. He had had the typical nightmare of the colors and his wife and daughter, but then it had shifted into something different. It was as if he had been watching someone through their eyes. And it was a nightmare as well, oh yes. That figure with the voice that chilled the air, who had he been? Had it just been a dream, or a vision?

A dream, he decided. Lucius wasn't a fan of superstition, and visions fell clearly into the territory of fantasy for him. Still, it might not hurt to ask around the Arcane University, especially regarding what the man had done at the end. After the trick with his hand, everything had blurred away, but he distinctly remembered a voice. It had been feminine, he was sure, but he hadn't recognized it and now he couldn't remember what it was she had said. _Perhaps that's for the best though._

His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed something in the sky. Fire. He lept up from the crate and ran towards it, hoping to get there in time to help put it out. He needed something, anything to do to get his mind off of the dreams.

It coming from the general direction of the Temple District. He ran through the gate to Green Emperor Way, and noticed that the pair of guards that normally stood at each gate were absent. It was the same on the other side. He went up the steps and around the White-Gold Tower. He noted that at least the Palace Guard were still present and patrolling, though most of them were staring at the flames as well, which continued to grow in size the closer Lucius came to them. Once he reached the gate, he could hear the screaming.

It sounded like a women, though Lucius could also hear the wailing of a baby. He passed under the arch and ran down the streets, eventually coming to the blaze. Fire was bursting out the door and the windows, and in one place the ceiling had caved in. Since all the buildings were made of stone, fire was not something most people expected, so there was little in the way of preparation for it. Standing outside the building was the women he had heard earlier, holding a baby. Lucius recognized her as Terentius Lucenus's wife, though he had heard nothing of the man having a child.

Dozens of men, mostly Legionnaires and Watchmen, were outside the building as well, having gathered buckets of water from the wells, and were attempting to stop the fire. It was, however, out of control. There was no way a few bucketfulls of water would even come close to stopped it. Nevertheless, Lucius felt the need to do something, so when someone pressed a bucket into his hands and told him to go fetch more water, he didn't even have to think about it, despite probably being a higher rank than the man.

And so the evening passed, as they tried to put out the flames. They never succeeded, and it took the combined strength of several mages from the Arcane University to destroy the fire. Upon inspection, they came to the conclusion that the fire was not natural, but magical, and that there would be no trace of Terentius, who had been trapped inside. His body would have been disintegrated by the heat, they said, and if the building hadn't been made out of stone, the entire district would have burned down.

Everyone was silent at that. Eventually, the crowd that had been gathered around the inferno dispersed, going back to their own homes, while the Watchmen went back to their posts. The Legionnaires stayed to guard the charred remains of the house for an official investigation by the Emperor's Battlemages, with a Blade advisor, of course. No one important could die in the Imperial City without the Blades becoming involved.

Lucius sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he watched Terentius's wife, Claire, he thought he had heard the General call her, being comforted by a group of several people he didn't recognize. Neighbors, he supposed. The sun was beginning to rise, and Lucius decided to go back home. The death of an Imperial General wasn't the way he wanted to start the day, and if those mages had been right, if he had been murdered, then that only made things even worse. He wasn't looking forward to his task of finding the Dark Brotherhood, and he would be willing to bet that they had been behind this. Who else would have been able to kill him like that?

The Mage's Guild, perhaps, but even then only a very powerful wizard could have used a fire spell like that. At least, according to one of the mages investigating the building. Besides, they had no motive. There was no reason for the Mage's Guild to want to kill Terentius. He wasn't a pleasant man; quite the opposite. However, he had never done anything against magic. He _liked _magic. He had wanted it to be taught to all Legionnaires during training, to make their abilities balanced, he said. If anything, they owed him. The plans of the Mage's Guild went about almost unchecked within the city, almost entirely because of him.

No, he must have done something to someone else. But even then it didn't make much sense. From what little Lucius knew of the Dark Brotherhood, they only killed by contract, so they also had no reason to go about killing nobles and generals. Unless someone was paying them a lot of money. At least, that's how Lucius supposed it worked. He didn't know very much about the group. They were more in the jurisdiction of the Watch, and so generally the military arm of the Legion didn't bother with them.

While Lucius couldn't particularly say he was saddened by Terentius's passing, it was still a bad omen of things to come. If they were now targeting the leaders of the Legion itself, what would stop them from dispatching anyone attempting to find them with ease?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**Noblesse Oblige**

_**Act One**_

_Chapter Three_

Lucius got up, rubbing his eyes. He had returned home and immediately gone to bed. even though he hadn't really been tired. He didn't want to stick around at the scene of the fire though, because he hated the Blades. They were always sticking their noses into everyones' business and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it, because they served the 'Emperor's Will.'

They were like an inquisition, constantly asking questions and never being satisfied with the answers. And when it came to crimes like this, they always got their man, even if that man was actually just an innocent beggar no one would miss. Because they had to be seen to be doing something, and even if what they were doing wasn't helping, it still eased the public opinion to watch a good execution.

They were a bunch of overbearing, stuffy, callous bastards who were so deeply entrenched in the politics of the world that they brought the problems of provinces with them everywhere they went. And so to avoid that, Lucius went home. He hadn't felt like going on a patrol in any case, especially not that night.

He could hear laughter from downstairs and knew that company had already arrived. He cursed and stumbled over to his dresser, then pulled out a dark red tunic of silk. He found a matching set of pants deeper in the dresser, then put on a simple set of shoes and walked out. Another thing he hated was fancy clothes like silk, but Lydia insisted on such things. She was the sort that believed you should always dress to impress. Lucius just found the whole deal rather itchy.

He walked through the door and down the stairs, then went into the kitchen, where Orson, Lydia, and Monica were all seated at a table, chatting. Selena was sitting in her mother's lap. The three year old girl had a bright smile on her face as she pulled a bit of Lydia's hair. She didn't seem to mind much. Orson looked up at him with amusement. "My my, not much of an early riser, are you? We've been sitting here for an hour because Lydia didn't want to disturb you."

"Yes, well, I had a rather interesting night. Orson, a word."

Orson frowned and got up from the table, following him out of the room and back towards the staircase. "What's wrong?"

"Terentius Lucenus is dead. He was burned alive in his home last night by magic fueled fire. The Battlemages are investigating, as are the Blades."

Orson's eyes narrowed and his frown grew. "Why am I only hearing of this now? I'm supposed to be half of the Gods-damned investigation team and no one notifies me?"

"We don't know for certain-"

"Please. Don't even try to lie to me. You and I both know full well who did it. How did you find out?"

"I was there. I decided to go out patrolling because I was restless, and I came across the fire."

"I bet no one planned on telling us for a while yet. I'm going to pay a visit to the Academy, find out what this is all about. They can't just tell us to investigate the murders, then not inform us when something happens!"

A thought crossed Lucius's mind, causing him to grimace for a split second, but Orson caught it. "What is it? What are you thinking?"

"What if... What if that's the point? What if we're not supposed to find anything. What if we're just supposed to be here so they can tell the Elder Council they're doing something."

"Those thoughts border on treason. Besides, that can't be right. Terentius was one of the men who commissioned us, and now he's dead."

"It doesn't have to be all of them. Just one man, with enough power to hire the Dark Brotherhood."

"Stop. You're jumping to conclusions, and I don't like it. There's no point to it even if that's true anyway. The only way anyone will accomplish a coup, and I know that's what you're getting at by this, is if the entire Elder Council and the Emperor himself is assassinated. And that won't happen as long as the Blades are around."

"The Emperor has been assassinated before, and it caused chaos."

"Yes, but that was a very long time ago, and to prove a point. I don't think the Brotherhood are interested in collapsing a regime they live under, to replace it with one that is aware of their power. They won't last long if the Empire falls."

"Then what is your theory?"

"I have no theory. My theory is that there's a murderer on the loose, and that we need to find him. I don't care about the political implications or how it will affect the Elder Council or any of it, and neither should you. We're Legionnaires, and all we should be concerned with is doing our duty."

Lucius frowned as Orson walked back into the kitchen. A few moments later he walked back out, Lydia and Monica behind him. "Now, are you coming or not?" Orson asked.

Lucius nodded his agreement, but said nothing as they walked out. Outside, a nice young Breton girl had been waiting at the door, and Lydia said a few words to her before she went into the house. Lucius frowned at her back, and he could feel Lydia staring at him. "What?"

"There's nothing wrong with her. She's a very nice young girl. She's married to that Remings boy."

"I still don't trust her."

"You don't trust anyone dear. You're far too paranoid."

Lucius turned and followed after his wife, but in his head he was still worried. He dearly loved his daughter, even if he wasn't usually around to show it, and he was always concerned when strangers were near her. It came with the job. Both jobs.

* * *

Lucius was staring out the window from his seat in the King's Haven. It was an Altmeri restaurant, serving fancy looking food in too small portions on too big plates. Everyone wore expensive clothing, with expensive jewelry and just emanated snobbishness. Lucius could only sneer at them all. But only on the inside of course. He was aware that a few of them were watching him, and that they were all nobles who probably had the power to sack him with a word. Oh, how he hated them. It had always been an obvious flaw in his character, or perhaps a boon to it, depending on who you ask, to hate those who called themselves nobles. Not because they held power, but because they did nothing with is aside from try to gain more power. They had no sense of honor, of noblesse oblige.

In that respect, Lucius loved the Redguards. They always had their code and they stuck by it. They didn't claim one thing to the public then turn around and do something else. But then they were bred with such ideals, much like how Altmers tended to be bred to consider themselves the superior race, or how Bosmers were bred to be treehuggers. It was a culture thing. And while it was true, to an extent, that Cyrodiil was a mixing of all cultures, those things never disappeared entirely. They're always there, underneath the surface, waiting to burst out at the most unexpected times. Which was why you never saw an Altmer begging for food, or a Bosmer cutting down forests. It's something that has been with them as a race and as a people for so long that it'd be impossible to get out without mass genocide.

Oh sure, there were the few here and there that weren't cut from the same cloth as the rest, but you never heard anything important from them. It was as if the rest of their society had deemed them unfit, so they were forced to take a vow to never do anything important and to just sit there like a good boy and leave all the talking to the smart people. Lucius could even imagine how such conversations could play out.

It was a twisted way of thinking to some people, usually Breton people, but it was how the world worked, and why the world would never be happy under a single ruler. Which was precisely why Uriel was only a figurehead and not a true Emperor like the ones of old. The Council did everything in the Empire, so that no one province could be favored over the other. And to accomplish this fairness, they bickered and yelled and insulted each other all day long, then left the Council Chambers with their decision, patting each other on the back and pretending that one insult about the others mother had never happened. And yet it was the smaller, meaningless comments that seemed to stick with people and start wars.

Lucius's thoughts were interrupted when Lydia tapped him on the shoulder. She was looking at him with an expression of concern on her face, though it was more of a habit than anything else. He always drifted off at these fancy restaurants because there was nothing to _do_. He wasn't a very talkative person, and he preferred action, which left him with very few options. There were no criminals in a place like this. Or at least no criminals that couldn't instantly pay themselves out of a crime.

"You're not dozing off again, are you?"

"No, just thinking."

"About what?"

"People."

Lydia frowned at him, already anticipating his pessimism. He had a very dim view of most people, which was a sharp contrast to her trusting and optimistic thoughts. She balanced him out and kept him from going crazy, or at least that's how she liked to think of it. In truth, it was probably the other way around, and him that stopped her from getting hurt. Lucius only stopped his brooding when he realized that Orson and Monica were both staring at him. Or rather, past him.

Lucius turned and saw a young man carrying a book, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Knight Bachelor Orson?

Lucius shook his head, then pointed a finger at the man sitting across from him, who had suddenly narrowed his eyes.

The young man smiled slightly and walked around the table to Orson, then leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Orson just looked at him blankly like he was an idiot. "So?"

The young man looked flustered for a moment at the unexpected question. "Well, I thought-"

"You thought wrong. I don't care who you are, I'm off duty. Now if you would kindly leave."

The young man just stood there for a moment, looking unsure of what he should do. Lucius took the time to observe him. He _was_ young, probably no more than eighteen. His short, regulation length black hair was perfectly combed and his brown eyes were slightly dull, as if he was uninterested in everything going on around him. Which didn't match how he had been acting so far; a young, fresh-faced member of the Legion. Which was what he was, if Lucius was any judge. Not very muscular at all, though it was hard to tell as he was wearing an old, brown robe. Lucius was sure though, because the robe he was wearing was one of a million others handed out to the members of the Legion that wouldn't cut it as soldiers. They either couldn't use a weapon, weren't strong enough to wear armor, or were too stupid to be trusted with anything important. This young lad had more the look of a mage. He was impeccably clean, much to Lucius's distaste. In his opinion, if someone wasn't at least a little dirty, that meant they hadn't done any work, and Lucius didn't trust those who didn't work for their rewards. No doubt he was the son of some noble, who had been advanced only because of heritage. Lucius decided to find out.

"What's your name, boy?"

The young man had the decency to look indignant and it showed in his voice, though not in his eyes, which Lucius found strange and slightly unnerving. "Excuse me sir, but I don't have permission to say anything to you. I was told to report only to-"

"I don't care. I'm a Knight Bachelor, do you hear me, boy? I tell you to do something and you do it, or I dock your pay. Now, what is your name."

There was a moments hesitation, before, "Quintus Sanctus."

"Never heard of that name before."

"I didn't think you would have. My parents are farmers out near Stonedale."

Lucius paused in thought for a moment as his memory kicked in. "Stonedale? Isn't that across the border in Hammerfell? How did you get here?"

Quintus looked surprised that the other man had recognized the village. "Yes, it is. I was just transferred here. No explanation. I just got to the city and I was immediately told to report to an Orson Ashcroft, who would be dining here at exactly this time."

Orson looked up for a moment, surprised. "How did they know I would be here? Do they have Blades spying on us or something? That's it, I'm going to have a word with Surius right now."

He got up from his chair and walked out, drawing the gaze of everyone else in the restaurant. Monica hurried off after him, as did Quintus. Lucius had to admire the boy's resolve. Even though Orson obviously didn't want him there, he was determined to carry out his orders. Yep, he'd make a fine annoying assistant. Lucius could feel himself smiling even as he got up to go after Orson as well. Before doing so, he turned to Lydia, who was now very unhappy about the interruption of her lunch, and apologized.

"I'm sorry, but there are things that must be attented to. Like restraining Orson before he gets himself demoted."

Lydia waved a hand telling him to go, and sat at the table by herself, staring at all the unfinished food with regret. She sighed, unsure of what to do now, before she realized that no one had payed yet. Her eyes shifted to the waiter, who was looking the other way. Knowing she had no money, she decided that a quick retreat was in order.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**Noblesse Oblige**

_**Act One**_

_Chapter Four_

Lucius hurried through the crowd, trying to catch up to Orson and Monica, who were already a good distance ahead of him. His wife was no doubt trying to calm him, and Lucius would give only a few minutes before he stopped and went home. She was very good at persuading him of things. In truth, there was almost no reason for him to be hurrying after them, but he did anyway. Just in case. In case of what, he wasn't sure, but he suddenly had a very bad feeling.

Ahead of him, the pair stopped and walked over to the shade of a nearby building. Lucius smiled; under a minute, he had underestimated her. He walked towards them as Orson sat down on a nearby bench, rubbing his temples. Monica was looking down on him with an expression of disapproval. Quintus was nowhere to be seen. _He must've gotten lost in the crowd._

"Already out of steam, are we?"

Monica gave him a dirty look, but he just smiled.

"Ah, what would be the point. They probably wouldn't even allow me an audience, and if I charge in there without permission, they'll just court martial me," Orson said, his expression grim.

"You had to know they were going to be watching us. They were probably watching us before we had even known about all of this. It's all politics. And as much as I hate it, there's nothing to be done. Now go home, Orson, This is your day off, you should be relaxing, not out here worrying all the Watchmen."

Orson looking around and noticed that all the guards were indeed staring at him. "Right. Right, well I'll get going then."

Just as Orson was getting up, the noise of a crossbow firing broke the stillness of the air. No one moved for several moments, but everyone was trying to figure out what had just happened. Several looked around for the source, while others looked for what had been shot at, but no one noticed Monica until she collapsed to the ground, blood trickling out of a wound on her shoulder, where the steel crossbow bolt had pierced her. She hadn't even screamed. Orson, however, did.

Lucius reached for his sword only to realize he hadn't brought it with him. Orson kneeled by his wife, cradling her head in his lap as he examined the wound. A dozen people, most of them guards, rushed to the fallen woman, while most of the civilians in the area ran for their life, afraid that they might be next. There were shouts of 'assassin' and 'there's a murderer on the loose', but Lucius payed them no mind, instead scanning the nearby rooftops for the shooter. And it had to have come from a roof, based on where the bolt had hit her. All he needed to see was the slightest bit of a black cloak disappearing behind the peak of a roof for him to go into action.

He sprinted through a nearby alley, following in the direction he had seen the assassin go, but when he emerged on the other side, there was no trace left. Lucius cursed and ran back to where Orson was kneeling. Monica appeared to have lost consciousness, and her skin was going pale. Orson was just sitting there, not moving. Several guards rushed over and picked her up, leading her towards the Healer's Guild. If the crossbow had been poisoned like Lucius suspected, they wouldn't arrive in time.

Orson still hadn't moved. He was paralysed in that spot. "Orson. Orson get up."

There was no response. Lucius pulled back a fist, and hit him as hard as he could. Orson fell backwards, stunned. Lucius walked over and pulled him up by the collar of his tunic, then slammed him into a nearby wall. "Get a hold of yourself man! Your wife has just been shot! Are you going to sit there like an idiot or do something about it?"

He let Orson drop, but he landed semi-steadily on his feet. He looked like he was going to be sick. "Yes... I'll... I'll go inform the generals that there's been... Another... Assassination..."

Orson looked like he was going to shut down again, but he began moving, slowly at first, then breaking into a full run. Lucius turned and directed his attention to the rest of the guards, who were just standing around staring in shock. "What are you all looking at? Secure this district, seal the gates, and search every corner of this city if you have to, but I want that assassin dead, do you hear me? Kill the bastard!"

The guards scrambled for their weapons and took off in various directions. He motioned for two guards who were just beginning to leave. "You two are coming with me. I'm going to pay a visit to an old friend."

The guards nodded, and followed after him as he walked furiously through the streets. An old man burst out of a nearby house, brandishing an old, steel longsword and shouting about keeping the ruckus down. Lucius grabbed the sword from his hands and ignored his shouts of protests and Watch cruelty. He'd get his sword back. Eventually.

* * *

Lucius walked through the sprawling slum that was the Waterfront, a place no sane guard would ever go. It was run by pirates, thieves, and smugglers, and proved a safe haven for the worst criminal scum all across the Empire. Ironic that the festering corrupting that was slowly killing the Empire was right next to it's heart. He had been arguing that the Watch needed to move through and cleanse the place for years, but the generals had refused to even entertain the idea, going on and on about not wanting innocents to get caught in the crossfire. _But in a place like the Waterfront, there's no such thing as innocence. Only degrees of guilt._

People were staring at them as they walked on what could roughly be called a road. Some had their weapons bared, but none would dare attack an officer of the Legion. It was easy to tell him for what he was, despite the fact that he wasn't in uniform. It was in the way he walked, in his very aura. The criminals could sense it, and knew it would be very bad if they got in his way.

They eventually stopped in front of a particularly run down house. The wood that formed it was decaying and rotting, and holes were everywhere. Lucius defiantly strode up to the rickity door, ignoring the whispering onlookers, and kicked it open. There were several ragged looking people inside, most of them either Bretons or Nords. They were clothed in what could, at best, be described as filthy sets of linen. Most had weapons. Eight men jumped up from their chairs, where they had been playing cards, and drew their various weapons. Mostly iron shortswords, but one of the Nords carried a battleaxe, and the lone Imperial was armed with a club.

"Let me pass, or I'll gut you all like pigs and leave you to bleed."

The majority of the men paled and began to sit back down, but the Nord with the battleaxe shouted an insult in his native language and came running at him, his weapon raised over his head, ready to split Lucius's head in two. Lucius lazily jerked his hand to the left, slashing the big man across the stomach with his sharp steel. The blade effortlessly cut through the man's clothing and skin, and he fell backwards, the battleaxe falling from his grip. Lucius stepped over the screaming Nord and looked towards the other men, who were once again playing cards and hoping desperately that the Legionnaire didn't come any closer to them.

The two Watchmen behind him looked nervous. They hadn't been prepared for something like this. All of a sudden, a door near the back of the room burst open, and a young Redguard woman walked in, carrying an ebony sword in her hands and wearing some extremely expensive looking gold armor. It definitely didn't fit the surroundings. "What do you want, Imperial!"

To everyone's surprise, Lucius began laughing, long and hard, nearly bending over and dropping his sword. The men at the table were watching with open mouths, the two Watchmen were staring in complete shock, and the Redguard woman was blushing heavily.

Then, before the woman could react, Lucius had darted forward, knocking the sword from her hand and throwing her over his head. She landed hard on the wooden floor, and Lucius was bending down behind her, a knee in her back trapping her to the ground. "Trying to sound threatening doesn't work when you know the real person."

He slammed the sword down right next to her head, and the men at the table got up again, once more drwing their weapons. The two guards were aware of their task now, though, and stepped in front of Lucius, their swords already pointing at the men.

"You can't do this to me Lucius! I'm the Captain of a ship now, not some little playmate. Get off of me you oaf!"

"No. I know you have a lot of connections in the city... Well, I know your father does. I want him to find the Dark Brotherhood in this city for me. I want to know where they're located, and how to get to them."

Everything went completely silent. "That's impossible. No one finds the Brotherhood unless they want to be found. My father-"

"Your father has used their services many times in the past, I'm sure. He knows where they are. There are others in the Waterfront that know as well, but the difference is, I have some leverage over your father."

"You wouldn't dare-"

"I would.

"He'd kill you."

"He'd try."

The woman sighed, and closed her eyes. "Fine. I'll tell him, but don't expect anything but retribution for this. My father will make life very harsh for you."

"It can't get much worse than it already is, Ralinda."

Lucius got up and walked out, and the guards hurriedly followed him a few moments later. The pirate Ralinda stared at his back as he walked away, and her men were more than nervous at her glowering stare. Now she'd have to speak to her father on his behalf. It wouldn't be pleasant. In her experience, talking to members of the Elder Council never was, regardless of who they were.

**A/N:** _And another chapter up. Lately it's been seeming like I'm taking a progressively longer time to write shorter content, and I'm not sure why that is. Ah well, I'm sure it'll pass soon enough._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **_I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**Noblesse Oblige**

**_Act One_**

_Chapter Five_

"This is unacceptable!"

Silence reigned in the council chambers as the generals considered what they had been told. One in particular was in a rage. "Commander Modius is dead, General Terentius is dead, officials and consuls are dropping like flies, and you want Orson to be taken off the mission? We have no time for this nonsense!"

Surius was in a rage, face red and fists clenched as he stared down at the unmoving forms in front of him. Orson, Lucius, and their two aides had been called before the council, as had Adamus Phillida, though he was nowhere to be seen.

Lucius seemed to quietly consider the man, then began speaking in a soft, measured tone. "General, Orson's wife was just shot, most likely by the man who has been doing this. He has been emotionally compromised, and is no longer fit to be on this case."

Orson flinched, but his gaze didn't move. He had been staring at a particular spot on the wall for the past ten minutes, his eyes blank. It was like he was off in another world.

"Nonsense! This is precisely what we need. If anything, his wife being killed will serve to motivate him!"

Lucius's eyes flashed with anger. "What did you-"

"She's not dead," Orson said quietly, his eyes not rising.

Surius's eyes narrowed. "What did you say son? Speak up."

Orson started to sweat, and closed his eyes. Lucius looked up at him, anger continuing to grow. "With _all due respect_, General, that's _quite_ enough. Orson needs to be with Monica now, not further endangering himself. Find someone to replace him. Surely that can't be too difficult for you."

Surius's eyes narrowed further. "Soldier, you are here by our grace. We made you, and we can unmake you, remember that. If I hear another outburst from you, I will consider it basis for insubordination and treason, punishable by death. Now shut up and get back to work. Find these bastards and nail them! I want them dead. Are we clear, Mr. Jucanis?"

"Crystal, sir."

"Very good then. Dismissed. Ah, but Quintus, stay a moment, will you?"

Fuming, Lucius lead Orson and Rufius out of the room, while Quintus stayed behind in the audience chamber, looking perfectly composed. _The boy definitely has nerve. _Lucius slammed the door behind him and went through the corridors towards the courtyard. Orson was back in his own world, staring at nothing, while Rufius was silent for once. _Just great._

As they passed through the doors to the courtyard, Phillida swept past them, going towards the council chambers. He didn't even spare a glance. It seemed that he would interrupt whatever was going on between Quintus and Surius, and that could only end badly for all involved. Everyone was on the edge in the Academy. It would only be a matter of time before someone slipped and fell, and Lucius definitely didn't want to be around for the fallout.

* * *

Lucius pulled Rufius aside as Orson walked into the healer's building. He received a nervous smile, but said nothing for several moments, before looking at Orson's retreating back. "Listen, I need you to do me a favor, okay? Arrange a meeting with Jonah Tralen. If they give you any political bull, say that it's been arranged by Ralinda. That's all you have to do, they'll understand."

Rufius nodded and ran off towards White-Gold Tower. The sky was darkening; it seemed that another day of rain was in order. He turned and went inside after Orson, passing several men in white robes along the way. He didn't need directions, as halfway down the hall he ran into Lydia. She looked like a mess. Her hair was tangled, her skin was pale, and it looked vaguely like she had been crying. Monica and Lydia had been good friends long before Orson and Lucius had met, so it was only natural he supposed. Though it did make him stop to think of why he couldn't bring himself to shed a tear over the woman. He had liked her and considered her a friend, but instead of sadness, he felt nothing. It was as if any other person had died to him, and while he felt bad for Orson and what he was going through, he had no compassion for the dying Monica. That bothered him.

"How are things?"

Lydia looked at him strangely for a moment, searching his eyes, before replying.

"She doesn't look good. Orson doesn't look good either, though. Lucius, I... I can't believe this is happening. I-"

"When did you find out? And from who?"

She looked startled at the sudden questions. "Uh... I... I can't remember actually. One moment I was going home, the next I was coming here. I don't know how I found out, but I'm glad I did regardless. She needed someone to comfort her. I don't think-"

"You never went home then?"

"No. Lucius, what is it?"

Lucius's eyes were blank for a moment, as if he had just realized something, before he took off running down the halls, back towards the exit. Lydia shouted something at him, but ignored her. He barreled down the hall and out onto the streets, knocking over the same white robed men he had passed earlier. He was in Talos Plaza District, so it shouldn't have taken too long to get home, yet it seemed like fate itself was intervening against him. The main gates to the Elven Gardens was sealed off, with a crowd standing in front of it, confused. There was a Legionnaire there, trying to answer questions while explaining that it was under repair._ Impossible. They haven't repaired these gates in two-hundred years, so why start now?_

Growling in anger, he took a left down a side street until he came before the great walls. He followed them before coming to a Watch tower that connected the districts with a barracks. He spent no time in jerking the door open and marching through, even as a Watchmen rose to get in his way. He drew his sword and pointed it at him. "No civilians allowed. Get out of here or I'll take you in."

Lucius's eyes narrowed, and the guard had a moment of inspiration. Unfortunately, it was too late for his body to respond to said moment. Lucius charged forward, fist already formed, and tackled the Legionnaire to the ground, then punched him in the face for good measure, most likely breaking the poor man's nose. Some of the other guards, who had been playing cards in a suspiciously familiar fashion to the pirates, rose and drew their swords as well.

"You listen to me you worthless idiots. I am a Knight Bachelor, and if you don't get out of my way this instant, I will have you gutted ,imprisoned, and hung from the gallows. In that order."

The Watchmen, quickly finding their sense of self preservation, backed up and went back to their card game. Lucius turned and walked past them, making sure to step on the fool Watchman that had first drawn a weapon on him. While he could have simply said all that first before, he had needed to take his anger out on someone, and the Watchman was convenient.

He went through the door and into the Elven Garden District, passing the sealed gate once again, where a similar, if smaller crowd was gathered. He passed them without a second glance and took the familiar route home. He turned down the side alley and went past the three doors before his. All the lights in the block of houses were out. He reached the door and carefully crept up the steps, then removed his key and put it into the lock. Only to find the door already unlocked. He now wished that he had kept the sword he had borrowed from the old man.

He threw the door open quickly and stepped inside, but it was pitch black, and he didn't know illusion magic. Though he wasn't a fan of magic, Destruction was mandatory in the Legion, so his next action was to murmur a quick word with a slightly changed pronunciation from the normal. His hand lit up in fire that traversed the skin from his fingertips to his wrist in small waves. Though it wasn't much, it was still taxing on his willpower, and he wouldn't be able to keep it going for very long. As it turned out, he wouldn't have to.

A man concealed entirely in black was standing in front of him, having previously been concealed by the shadows. In his right hand he held the babysitter Lydia had hired by the hair. She was merely unconscious, Lucius noted with some relief. What he held in his other, black gloved hand, gave him pause. It was a knife, but it wasn't an ordinary knife. It was ebony, with special designs that Lucius recognized. Designs found only on weapons used by the Brotherhood. And it was held to her neck, already drawing a slight amount of blood.

The figure was cloaked and hooded, and under the cloak a black mask was clearly visible, the eyes concealed by some sort of red glow. An effect to hide everything about his appearance, Lucius knew. Even so, Lucius suspected that the figure was smiling.

Even as the rain began to fall on the continually darkening city, Lucius took a step backwards. Dealing with murderers and criminals was one thing, but professional assassins was another entirely. If this man was indeed Brotherhood, and there was little doubt in Lucius's mind of that, then he was as good as dead. No one escaped the blades of the Brotherhood. "I won't try and ask what you're here for, as it's obvious. Instead, I'll ask what you plan to do with her. Why keep her as a hostage? You could kill me in a heartbeat right now. There's no need to get the innocent involved."

The man spoke in a cultured tone, one you would expect of a noble. "Innocent? Why Mr. Jucanis, isn't it your own creed that there is no such thing as innocence, only degrees of guilt?"

Lucius's eyes widened. "How-"

"It is my regret that it has come to this, Mr. Jucanis, but I'm afraid your time is up. The moment you accepted that mission, you had a mark on you. You think you can find us? Think again. We find you. Even as we speak, your dear nephew Rufius is on his way to his death. And Councilman Tralen? Already dead. Your wife will be next, I suppose, but I think we'll keep your precious daughter. We could have a lot of fun with her, raising her as a daughter of Sithis. The Night Mother would be pleased."

The man's voice held a mocking tone, and every impulse in his brain was telling him to rip this man's throat out, but he still barely maintained his self control. The moment he moved was the moment he died. "Let her go, and let my family go. They've done nothing against you."

"No? They have aided you, have they not? Provided you comfort and security, that warm feeling you find so hard to get in this cruel, cold world. They allow the crack in your ever cynical mind to widen, and allow you to hope for the future, do they not? That is all we need to kill them. We do not need them to go against us, we merely need them to help you. And they have done that job gloriously, haven't they. What fun it would be, making you watch them suffer."

Lucius caught the man's words, and immediately knew something was wrong. "Me watching them suffer? Aren't you supposed to kill me quickly, efficiently? Isn't that how you people work?"

"Hah! Us people. You act as if we are a hive mind, with no personality. Each of us handles missions in their own way, and I am particularly fond of watching pain. Evil, right? That's what most would call it I suppose. But then most who witness my acts are too dead to comment. Ha, yes, but I'm not here to kill you in any case, Mr. Jucanis."

Warning bells began to go off in Lucius's head. "No? Then what are you here for?"

"To frame you."

The man suddenly threw the girl at him, and Lucius was forced to catch her. He couldn't have dodged out of the way without the girl falling on the stone steps and cracking her head open. By the time he looked up to find the assassin, he was right in front of him, an ungloved hand hovering in front of his eyes. He watching helplessly as the hand began to glow, and found that he couldn't move. He had been paralyzed somehow. "Hold still Mr. Jucanis, this is going to hurt."

And then the hand moved through his forehead, and everything flashed red.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**Noblesse Oblige**

_**Act One**_

_Chapter Six_

A horrible pain erupted in Lucius's mind, one he was unable to put a damper on despite his training. Dozens, if not hundreds of images flashed through his mind. Images of his childhood, of his parents, even his pet dog. Then, his life as he began to grow into adulthood. Meeting Orson for the first time in basic, being yelled at by his instructor, learning to wield a sword. And finally, images of his life as a man, as a Legionnaire. Fighting bandits on the road to Skingrad and watching his patrol partner killed by a stray arrow. Learning of the corruption that permeated every layer of the Legion right down to it's core. Learning much later that it was futile to try and root out said corruption. Raising through the ranks when he realized the only way to get ahead was to manipulate the corruption for his own gain. Slipping slowly and quietly away from his virtuous upbringing.

And at the last, meeting his beloved Lydia while he was investigating a murder. She had been a witness, and it turned out to be her neighbor. Then, images of his horrible attempts at courtship, while Orson frustratingly tried to give him tips, ever the ladies man. More images, most of them happy, flashed past. Marrying Lydia early on a Sundas morning, his mixed feelings when she announced she was pregnant with Selena. His joy at seeing his daughter for the first time, overriding all the doubts he had had previously. Watching her grow.

All of this went before his eyes, and undoubtedly, past the assassin's as well. As much as Lucius wanted to kill the man, he found he couldn't move a finger to even attempt to offer resistance.

The images ended abruptly, but before Lucius could think it was over, it began again, in reverse order. The assassin was picking carefully through his memories now, taking some and tossing them aside, yet carefully examining ones Lucius would have thought had no importance. Many memories of Orson were focused on especially. Every moment was like a hundred years of pain, and he knew that he should have lost consciousness by now, but the assassin was keeping him awake. Whether it was important that he remain conscious, or whether he simply wanted to cause him pain Lucius wasn't sure, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stand it much longer. He would go into shock if it didn't end soon.

The assassin in front of him paused over a particular memory and went over it again and again, but Lucius couldn't tell what it was as he had stopped comprehending the images a few minutes ago. He vaguely heard the man mumble something, though he may as well have been shouting, as Luicus wouldn't have been able to understand regardless. Then, the pain retracted slightly, and Lucius could feel a shift in movement. Then the pain suddenly became incredibly sharp as the assassin began to mold the memory he had chosen. It was in this moment that Lucius realized he could move his hands. On pure instinct and fueled by his pain, he lunged forward.

The assassin's eyes widened in shock as Lucius grabbed his arm and tried to jerk it away from his head. All he succeeded in doing was changing the effect of the spell. More images suddenly flashed through Lucius's mind, but he was no longer in pain, and they most definitely were not his own. Memories of a dark and horrible place, where light never reached. Of people with terrible power, all hooded and cloaked. Of an induction ceremony, and a set of red eyes. Of a table with ten seats, all perfectly arranged, and of aspirations to one day sit there. Of a master who was dreaded and feared. And of two names. The first was Savlian, and was the assassin's own. The second was hard for Lucius to understand, as it was written in a different language. It looked Daedric in origin, but was nothing like any Daedric writing Lucius had ever seen. It glowed blue, and was written as if the letters were thorns, scrawled across the text while constantly keeping to a single, flowing line. Before any other images could be seen, Savlian kicked him hard in the stomach, sending Lucius to fall on his back.

He looked up groggily to see Savlian straightening himself out. "That... Was not supposed to happen. You should not... Have been able to resist... Much less reverse the process. A shame. Now I'm going to have to kill you."

He held his arm out to the left, and a swirling red mist formed around it, rushing towards his outstretched fingers. It began to take form in his hand, eventually coalescing into a Daedric longsword. Savlian was panting from withstanding his own spell, and from using his remaining energy to summon the sword, but Lucius could tell that the end was nigh. He was completely exhausted, and it was a miracle he hadn't blacked out yet, while Savlian still had the strength left in him to make his kill.

Lucius desperately tried to crawl away, but he could hear the heavy footfalls of the assassin behind him, and knew he wouldn't be able to escape. "Do say your last goodbyes, Mr. Jucanis. Maybe the Gods will hear them, and let you see your family in the next life. If you're given one. I hear that murderers aren't sent to Aetherius. I guess you'll get to see if there's any truth to that."

If Lucius could speak, he would have made a comment about the pot calling the kettle black. Nonetheless, he was determined to face his death if he was going to die. He managed to turn over once more, just in time to see Savlian raise the sword over his head. And then it came plunging down, and Lucius was sent spiraling into the darkness.

* * *

In the darkness, there was a single bit of light, shining down from the heavens above. It revealed two forms, sitting at a table playing chess. One was the figure of a man, the other of a woman. Lucius stared at them for a few moments, then looked at himself. He was dressed in the same clothes he had just been wearing, but all the aches and pains had disappeared. Indeed, he felt absolutely nothing. Not even fear.

_He walked forward, wondering precisely what it was beneath his feet. It seemed to him to be pure darkness, but that was absurd. There was no such thing. The two figures, the male shrouded in a white cloak, and the female in a similar black one, turned to look at him. Lucius couldn't even see their eyes under the hoods. "Where am I? And what are you two?"_

_A normal person would have used the word who, but Lucius had realized from the first moment he glimpsed them, that they weren't man, mer, or beast. Nonetheless, Lucius could almost feel the smiles on both of their faces._

_We are merely spectators to the events of your world._

The words boomed in his mind in a deep, obviously masculine voice. It was one that held immense power, but at the same time gave off a gentle, kind feeling.

_We have been watching your life with interest for some time now, young human. Tell me, what do you think of it so far? Is it satisfactory?_

These words were in a female voice, one lined with compassion, and yet Lucius couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was more meaning to the words than was being implied. And deep beneath the surface, he could also hear a level a malice to them.

"My life... Is it over now? If I'm here, does that mean I'm dead?"

_Do not change the subject! _

The female voice again, with a level of anger to it that Lucius had not expected.

"My life has been one filled almost entirely with disappointment, but I am happy with it."

_And why is that?_

This time the male voice, sympathy mixed with curiosity.

"Because I have a family, and through them, my life has meaning."

_A human life? With meaning? What a curious concept. There has only been one before you who said such a thing. Who was completely honest. In that, you deserve praise. However, you also deserve our scorn._

It was the female voice again, with a surprising amount of compassion that did not seem to reflect her words.

"And why is that?"

_Because you have allowed it to end so easily! That cannot be allowed, not yet. Your time shall come, I have foreseen it, yet this is not it. Someone is interfering, and I hate those who seek to change the nature of time. Therefore, you must be set back on the path. The path that you shall create. Do you understand?_

It had switched back to the male voice, and now annoyance was just as clear as his kindness.

"No, no I don't. What are both of you? Are you Gods?"

_I suppose_, the female voice began, _that would depend on your definition. But it is of no matter to you. You would not be able to grasp the truth in any case. You would not even be able to grasp the truth about yourself. A shame, really. If you were that intelligent you might have lived longer. Just think of it this way, okay? We're giving you a second life. Make sure to guard it well._

Lucius noticed a glowing light, and looked down in amazement at the chessboard. It was, in reality, a picture of Nirn from high in the sky. And there were billions of pieces on the board, which seemed to stretch infinitely even as Lucius watched. The female figure lowered her hood just as there was a great flash of light, but Lucius was unable to catch her appearance. And then, the darkness swallowed him up again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**A/N:**_ I think I'll do this one a bit differently. First-person is far from my normal method, so undoubtedly I won't be very good at it, but I'd at least like to try since it seems to fit this particular chapter well. In my own mind, at least._

**Noblesse Oblige**

_**Act One**_

_Chapter Seven_

There was a loud thunk as the blade plunged into the wood floor, and a curse a moment later as Savlian realized his mistake. I blinked in utter confusion, unable to comprehend just what had happened. One moment I had seen the blade coming down towards me; a killing blow. The next, I was standing on the other side of the room, unharmed. But there was more to in than that. Not only was I not dead as I had been sure I was, I felt... Good. Only a moment ago, I had been in unbearable pain, barely maintaining consciousness as I struggled against him, but now I was rejuvenated. All the pain was gone, but what was more, I felt as if it had never happened at all. The last straw for my wholly confused mind was the realization that my left hand was gripping something very cold. A glance downward showed that it was my Legionary sword, long and straight, polished to a brilliant shine while still showing the marks of age and use.

I unconsciously released the breath I had been holding when I saw my death clearly in front of me, and immediately took hold of my situation. Now, I had a chance I couldn't pass up. The assassin was confused, muttering to himself and looking from side-to-side, but not behind him as any competent warrior would in such a situation. That alone marked him as dead.

With no thought in my mind aside from ending the life of the man that had not only threatened me, but also the lives of my family, I charged forward, not bothering to mask my advance. He turned swiftly, hearing the loud noises of my boots crashing down onto the floor, but had little time to react. Still, that small amount of time he did have was enough. I stabbed forward with my sword, intending to impale him, but he swiftly side-stepped me and brought his sword over his head and down, hoping to use the momentum to dismember me. The time it took him to do that, however, was more than enough for me to set up a block. And it would be a block. There would be no dance of swords with this man, no side-stepping and avoiding until one was too tired to keep up. This was a direct challenge, one that I would win. In this case, it was going to come down to sheer strength.

The sword came down even as the flat of mine went up, and the two blades collided in the air, to the assassin's surprise. He had expected me to back up to avoid the attack, rather than meet it head on. He put all the pressure he could onto the blade, grasping the hilt with both hands as he struggled to force me down. But I, with my years of harsh training with the sole purpose of becoming a being of war, was far stronger than him, the stealthy assassin.

I barely even had to grasp my blade with both hands to surge upwards. Sparks leaped from the blades as mine slid along his, and he panicked suddenly, the knowledge that he couldn't win worming its into his mind. He tried to get away from the lock, but that was the last and only mistake he made. As the pressure from him receded, I surged upwards with all my strength, and he couldn't take it. The blade flew from his hands, clattering to the floor behind him. He turned to watch in in flight, a look of pure disbelief on the face under the mask, I was sure.

He tried moving backwards again, but he didn't even manage one step before I brought my sword back and forward, plunging it through his stomach. He gasped in shock, and tried to slide backwards from my blade even as he did his best to avoid screaming. But I wasn't done. I wasn't nearly done.

I grasped his shoulder with my free hand, keeping Savlian in place as I twisted my sword inside him. This time he couldn't keep his composure, no matter how much training he might have had in that art of torture. I had had an equal amount, I was sure. But instead of being trained to resist it, I was trained to inflict it. I continued twisting the sword around as he howled in agony, blood beginning to fall to the floor. I smiled in satisfaction, feeling a strange sensation overcoming me. A strange bloodlust that hadn't been present since the day I had met Lydia.

His screams of agony slowly changed to pained whimpers as he struggled to keep from blacking out, but still I held him in place. Still, I wasn't done. With more strength than I should have used, I ripped the blade to the right, cutting through flesh, bone, and organ until my blade emerged from his body, dripping with his blood. He fell unceremoniously to the floor. He was no longer conscious, I was sure. But it didn't matter. Still, I was not done. This man had threatened me. That was not something I was entirely unused to. After all, had Surius not also threatened my life? No, I held no grudge against him for that. I held one for a different reason.

He had threatened my daughter. Whether an empty threat to get under my skin or not, it was one I was not willing, nor able to forgive. While those who watched me and my family might find my life as a parent entirely unsatisfactory, my thoughts and feelings were entirely my own. While it might seem horribly cold, the way I act towards my loved ones, that is simply something I put on. More than anything in the world, I love my daughter. More so even that my wife, as callous sounding as that might be. Do I love Lydia? But of course, I adore her with all my heart. But something about Selena has always placed her on a pedestal above all else. A pedestal I feel I mist keep my distance from. Lydia is kind, she is caring, she is loving. Those qualities are not ones I easily show. I am a murderer. I have killed many, many people in my lifetime, and have been responsible for the deaths, directly or indirectly, of many more. I would not do for a person such as me to become an attachment for a person who would surely grow up to resemble her mother, both in looks and personality. Lydia's heart would not be able to take some if things I have done, and continue to do with my life. And so by extension, how much can I expect from a child? Nothing.

And so I keep my distance, not wanted to ruin her perfect innocence of the world, as my innocence was ruined at her so very tender age. And being the child she is, barely able to grasp even basic concepts, she does not question this. Nor, to my thankfulness, does Lydia. However, for all that, she is still the one thing I love more than anything. And when Selena was born, I had made a promise. If anyone were to threaten her, they would experience a painful death. And if anyone were to touch her, they would experience a painful existence of misery in the deepest hole I could find. Now was the time to figure out which this man deserved.

I stood over his unmoving body, but noted the ragged rising and falling of his chest. Despite his wounds and continuing blood loss, he was still very much alive. "Tell me, assassin. Did you hurt my daughter? Or were your threats as empty as your ability to kill? One word to Surius is all that's needed. One word will put you in a place where you will never again see the light of day, where you will be eternally tortured by those unable to hear your screams, where you shall never escape from. So many things can be done with restoration magic, you know," I said, speaking entirely to myself. A strange feeling had once again come over me. There were warning bells going off in the back of my mind, but I pushed them away, even as a twisted smile slipped onto my face.

"So much can be done. Did you know, assassin," I said, bringing my blade to his neck and slipping it along his skin, careful not to draw blood, "that you can be disemboweled, forced to swallow hot embers, have the eyes plucked from your head, and that all these things can be healed? And that they can be done, over, _and over_, _**and over**?_ These things can be done with the power gifted to the Emperor's healers. Or rather, the Emperor's torturers. Such a fine distinction that must be made."

I walked around to the other side of him, even as the blood that pooled on the ground spread along the cracks of the floor. "These things can be done, have been done, and continue to be done. I have witnessed some of them, deep in the Legion Headquarters. They take such very good care of their prisoners there. They almost never die. Is that what you are destined for?"

I could hear whisperings in the back of my mind, and the warning bells had gone silent. They were telling me to find a healer, that Savlian could yet be saved, so that he could spent spiraling into this macabre plan I had laid out for him. I silenced them just as I had silenced the bells. "Or should I be merciful to you? Would you have shown mercy to my family, assassin? I somehow doubt it. But then, that is what separates scum like me from scum like you, isn't it. Scum like me, that works in the name of a noble intention and a higher meaning, and scum like you, that does it for your own enjoyment. That is a feeling I have never had. Yet... I feel I may enjoy killing you."

With that, I brought my sword up, and slammed it down, severing the unconscious assassin's head from his body. It was a mercy killing, through and through, I knew. When Surius got a hold of him, nothing was going to stop him from what I had described. The man was better off dead. Yet still, I had enjoyed killing him, and as I stared at his dead and bloody body, the warning bells blared louder than ever. Too loud for me to block out. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. I had taken pleasure in harming and killing a fellow man. As contemptuous as I had always been for the lives of others, enjoying the deed itself was not something I had experienced before. It made me feel dirty. Tainted. And in a way, I suppose I was.

But a scream from upstairs was all it took for me to break from me mental crises. The scream of a young girl. I dropped my sword and rushed upstairs, not even thinking of my appearance, bloody as it was. Nor the expression on my face, which was harder than steel. Had I seen it, it would have frightened even me. I climbed the stairs madly and dashed to the door I knew belonged to Selena, nearly ripping it off its hinges when I arrived. She was sitting up in her bed, crying. There was no sign she had been harmed in any way. Only her sleep had been disturbed.

I felt something click in my mind. The knowledge that she was safe overpowered everything else. I walked towards her, glad that she couldn't see me in such dim light, and sat down on the side of her bed, smiling. I stroked her short hair, and questioned her softly. "What's wrong, Selena. Did you have a nightmare?"

A nod of her head was the only response I received. I chuckled lightly. "Go back to sleep, my child. Mother shall be home soon, and she'll make everything better for you in the morning. But now you need to rest. Or else we'll all worry terribly for you. You don't want that, do you?"

She shook her head almost violently, perturbing me for a moment, but then she went back to the comfort of her bed. I smiled again. She didn't say a word, but I didn't expect her to. The child had a limited vocabulary, and she rarely used it in my presence. It was perfectly understandable.

It seemed to me that she had fallen to sleep again, as she was silent, unmoving. But I knew better than that. She was just pretending, waiting for me to leave the room so she could do Gods know what. It didn't bother me though. She would fall back asleep eventually, and that was all that mattered.

I softly closed the door behind me as I left and went back downstairs, but froze when I saw the corpse in front of me. And suddenly the gravity of the situation, and indeed, what I had just done, hit me harder than a blow from a warhammer. I staggered backwards, my mind swirling with unbidden thoughts, malicious and striking at my very soul. Lydia would have been shocked to see me in such a state of pure panic. Luckily, she wasn't there. I could only hope she planned to stay the night with Monica and Orson at the Healer's building. It would break her heart to see this scene, for more reasons than one. I needed to fix that. I walked towards the door, but froze again, suddenly remembering the girl Lydia had employed. I looked towards where she had last been, unconscious. She was gone. I cursed out loud, then looked back towards the door as yet another thought struck me. What if Selena were to come down, for any reason, and see this grisly scene?

But I needed it to be taken care of; the sooner the better. And that meant contacting the nearest Legion personnel. And no doubt the nearest Legion personnel were sleeping and shirking their duty. But still, the body had to be removed, and the blood cleaned. It occurred to me that I needed to change my clothes as well, but that would come later. Right now, the only thing in my mind was removing this reminder of a side of me I didn't know I had. And so with that thought, I rushed out the door and down the street, planning to get aid and get back as soon as possible.

But unbeknownst to me, a figure watched me flee from the house with a smile on his face. Cloaked and hooded and hidden by more than just the shadows, he chuckled to himself, knowing that still things went according to plan.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**A/N: **_Before you read this chapter, when you see a dash- that means interrupted speech. Think static. The first part of this chapter will be filled with that, as it's a dream sequence._

**Noblesse Oblige**

_**Act One**_

_Chapter Eight_

_"You know, things have gotten quiter. Be- there's no way that- but why would he bother?"_

_"Perhaps the Imperials have advanced farther than Master planned. They did manage to crush the rebellion in Valenwood after all."_

_"Yet still. Why do we wait? We have the power to crush the pathetic fools under the heels of our boots, yet still we sit here twiddling our thumbs."_

_"The Master's plan in unknowable Al- you know this."_

_"What are you two doing?"_

_The two figures, shrouded by haze and with an unsteady appearance, turned to look at the third figure walking towards them._

_"Nothing my Lo- nothing at-."_

_"Then why do you- here whispering- as if- Can you explain it?"_

_"Our apologies, Lord- We meant no offense."_

_"I'm sure."_

_And then everything blurred completely._

_

* * *

_

_"Tell me Orson, do you think Selena is doing well?"_

_Lucius turned to his friend who he could not see. Everything surrounding him was concealed by mist, yet everything went about as if he was standing in the middle of the city._

_"I'm not sure. Haven't you been to see her?" a distorted voice responded. It sounded as if it was coming through water._

_"I haven't be able to lately. The Master has kept me busy. I fear he may be suspicious of me."_

_"Perhaps he should worry more about Clau-"_

_"What?" Lucius asked, his face contorting in confusion._

_"Never you mind. I must return to my duties. Do not go near Dar- today. He's been acting odd, and I fear he may strike out at someone soon. Be sure it isn't you."_

_"Bah. I could kill that moronic Dunmer without a second thought."_

_"Maybe... Maybe..."_

_The blur then came again._

_

* * *

_

_"Are you really that foolish- or are you simply-? I told you to leave the field-."_

_"I will not bow my head to Cl-. Not again. While I watched many good men die, I realized something. You can't kill- you need her. No matter what Cl- might say, he wouldn't dare- head. I know what-. Azura- realm. I learned many things there, about many people."_

_"What do you imply?"_

_

* * *

_

Lucius woke with a start, breathing hard and sweat covering his skin. That had been no dream. He looked to his left and found Lydia lying next to him, sleeping soundly. After the attack on their house, they had been temporarily forced into a new home, one much smaller than their previous one. It was only one floor to start with, and had only one window. Which was understandable, considering it was actually the basement floor of a shop in the Market District. Surius had been clever with his reassignment. They had been put directly under a weapon's shop.

What concerned him most at that point wasn't an attack by an assassin, but rather his daughter's proximity to many sharp objects. He had been assured, however, that it would be a non-issue. The weapon shop provided very rare quality items, and as such they were always under lock and key or in a tightly secured display. It still made him slightly nervous, but he was nevertheless reassured by the precautions.

It also helped that Lucius knew the old man that ran the store. His name was Tralen Alusanna, and the elderly Redguard had been a member of the Legion. A drill instructor, actually. He had served for over fifty years and was skilled in the use of almost every weapon on the face of Nirn. Even in his old age, Lucius still somewhat doubted his abilities next to the infamous man.

He had been very kind and Selena had quickly taken a liking to him, though that was no surprise since she had so far inherited her mother's personality traits and took a liking to everyone. He had been so worried that she might have disobeyed him and gone down stairs anyway, but luckily she hadn't. Lucius was still arguing with himself in his own mind over his actions that day. He calculated everything he had done, trying to find the error. Trying to find the cause of his loss of control. Everything kept coming back to one moment. At one point, he had been on the floor, and the next he was standing behind the assassin, sword in hand. What had happened? The man had been as bewildered as him, so something strange had to have occurred. But for the life of him, Lucius couldn't remember it. Most of the time events like these occured, he simply shrugged them off as a result of fatigue or some similar factor, but this was different.

Ever since then, he had been unable to find peaceful sleep. He hadn't had the best of dreams previous to this, but at least he had been able to sleep through them before. Now he found himself waking in the middle of the night. No, these were no dreams. They were visions. As much as Lucius hated to admit, that was the only explanation. He didn't see any other possibility. Now, as much as it irked him, he would have to enlist the aid of the Mage's Guild. It was them or the Chapel, and Lucius trusted the priests less than the mages. At least the mages were blunt with you about what they wanted. The Priests of the Nine were all smiles and complements, slowly lulling you into a false sense of security before they sucked you dry.

Not all were like this of course. He had heard the Chapel of Dibella could hold some very interesting parties, for instance. Nevertheless, his experiences had been less than satisfactory. The Nine would simply have to make due without his prayers. _As if they care about us lowly mortals anyway._

Lucius rose to his feet, holding his head in his hands as he began to pace. It definitely had been lucky that Selena had not seen the result of his temporary madness, but his luck had apparently decided to humor him that day and extend it to Lydia as well. Had she seen the man he had killed, he wasn't sure how the gentle woman would have reacted. Most likely in horror.

He had returned with the Watch and they had removed the body and cordoned off the entire house before Lydia could even return from her visit with Monica. It was dark as well, which helped conceal the blood as he brought Selena out. More than anything, he wanted to protect her innocence, and even though at that age she probably wouldn't have understood anyway, he was taking no chances.

Regardless, neither of them knew precisely what had happened. Neither of them knew how close he had come to death. Lydia had tried to question it of course, but he refused to answer, even when her gaze dropped in sadness. This was something he needed to keep to himself, for better or worse.

Surius on the other hand, had been delighted. He assumed that with the death of that one man, all the killings would stop. He had been wrong. They continued onwards as if nothing had happened. The bodies of Ralinda and her father were the first to be found, and the death toll was continuing to rise and an ever continuing pace. It was like the Brotherhood had taken the death of their comrade personally, and stepped up their attacks as a result.

Yet that was another thing. At this point, he wasn't even sure if they were Brotherhood. Something seemed very off to him, and while he couldn't place it, he couldn't get it out of his head.

He sat down in a nearby chair and relaxed his chin on his folded hands. Something was going on here, and he was going to figure it out. If there was one thing Lucius hated more than anything else in the world, it was puzzles.

* * *

By the time morning came and light broke through the glass over their single window, Lucius had barely gotten any sleep. It definitely wasn't for the better. Before Lydia had even awoken, he had left the shop to roam the streets, looking for something to direct his frustrations at. It didn't take long.

"Hey! Hey! Someone stop him! Thief, thief!"

Lucius turned to see a large, hooded figure hurtling towards him, being followed by a diminutive Bosmer, who was actually gaining on him. Lucius smirked. His day was getting better already. With one swift movement, Lucius flipped the figure, who had come with hand range, over his head and onto his back. The man moaned in pain after hitting the stone floor, and his hood fell off to reveal Lucius's old Orc friend.

"Well, well. What do we have here. Failing at thieving again are we?"

The Orc only moaned again on seeing Lucius's face.

"Didn't get into the Thieves' Guild then I take it?"

"This was my last chance..."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "What was it this time then. Someone's boots? A newspaper? Silverware?"

"This," the Orc replied, pulling a bright, black gem out of his pocket. Lucius's grin disappeared to be replaced by a look of wonder.

The Bosmer who had arrived a few moments ago was staring at it from behind Lucius. He cleared his throat as he moved to take it. "Yes, well, as this is my possession, I'll just be re-appropriating it now. Thank you for your assistance, Imperial."

Lucius swatted his hand away before he could take the gem. "Now, magic isn't my strong suit, but... Isn't that a black soul gem?"

The Bosmer immediately retracted his hand and looked Lucius in the eyes, which kept flitting back and forth between the gem and him. "Of course not. I'm no Necromancer!"

"But then you do know what a black soul gem is? Are you Mage's Guild?"

"Erm... Yes, of course! What else would I be?"

"A criminal. Watch!"

A man that had been smiling, watching from the sidelines, stiffened, sighed, and then made his way over to them, his dull armor clanking on the stone steps. "Yes, citizen?"

"That's Knight Bachelor. Arrest this man on a charge of murder."

"Murder, sir?" the Watchman asked inquisitively.

If he had such an item in his possession, it can only mean he was planning on taking a human life, if he hasn't already. Take him away, execute him, do what you will with the murdering scum. We don't tolerate Necromancers in this city, Watchman. And remember, Necromancers are rare. Such an arrest will go on your record."

With those last words, the Watchman's eyes lit up. "As you say, Knight Bachelor. I'll take care of the criminal scum."

"I'm sure you will, friend," Lucius said, turning to eye the Orc who was still on the ground. "You, with me."

He helped the Orc down the street and then led him down an alley, not even paying attention to the screaming Bosmer as the Watchman knocked him unconscious. The Orc kept looking back and forth though, and was obviously fearing for his life.

Abruptly, Lucius turned, making the green-skinned mer jump. "You can keep that."

The Orc just gaped at him in disbelief for the second time.

"Get out of here. Complete your mission."

"But... But... Why?"

"Because I can. Because there would be no point to handing that gem over to the Watch, where some corrupt official would get it. Because maybe I just feel like being nice."

The Orc just stared at him, openly disbelieving what was going on, before turning around and running off. Lucius smiled. _Two birds with one stone. _What he had said was true enough. The gem _would_ have ended up with some politician or noble, he was sure. Most rare items acquired from crime scenes did. It also insured that the Orc would get into the mythical Thieves' Guild, and he was sure the bumbling idiot would mess up again eventually. His original plan was this put back on track. Already in a better mood, Lucius began whistling as he walked out of the alley and continued on his way down the street.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**Noblesse Oblige**

_**Act One**_

_Chapter Nine_

After his second encounter, which had out him in a far better mood, Lucius had found himself walking towards the Arcane University, a place he despised. The mages were far too nosy a bunch for Lucius' tastes, wielding their power like it gave them some innate advantage over "lesser" people. Though it disgusted Lucius on the most basic level, even he had to admit that only they would possess the knowledge to not only understand what his dreams were, but also interpret them if necessary.

The walk there was mostly uneventful, although he still kept a watchful eye on the crowds. He had found himself constantly checking people in the streets in case they might be an assassin. He was getting paranoid. _Can't relax. Not now. There's too much at stake here._

The people were mostly the same as they had always been. Mothers walking down the street with their chattering children in hand, laborers carrying stone and supplies to a new building site in Talos Plaza, merchants wheeling their carts full of "exotic" goods around. Occasionally, you would see a Legionnaire standing guard, stoic as always in the face of the masses. Priests stood on top of piles of stones or wood, preaching to the sinning plebs of how they could only find their salvation in the arms of Talos and the Nine Divines. There were Daedra worshipers present as well. You could always tell them from the rest of the crowd, as they would stand back and shoot the preachers dirty looks, though they still stood and listened.

There was a difference, though. Subtle, but noticeable for someone who read the faces of the people. There were trace amounts of fear spreading amongst the commoners. Whether it be in the tighter grips of the mothers, the uncommon hustle of the workers, the surprising silence of the merchants, the shifting looks of the Legionnaires, or the more extremist words of the preachers, it was there. Assassinations on this scale were impossible to keep quiet, and with the Emperor and his sons retreating to their inner sanctum in White-Gold Tower, it was clear that there was nothing to be done about the matter. People were terrified of the threat, even though they weren't being the ones targeted. It was that small inkling of a thought. _What if..._

The nobles, the ones who should have been fearing for their lives the most, were the ones walking confidently through the streets with their heads held high, surrounding by guards and mercenaries, as if taunting the assassins to come and get them. This arrogance was normally short-lived, as the Brotherhood _always_ found their mark. Whether it was a dagger coming from the unwashed masses in broad daylight, or poison dripped through snoring mouths in the dead of night, the Brotherhood _always_ found their mark. To date, Lucius was the only one to have escaped an attack that he was aware of. While a relieving thought, it was also a disconcerting one. The Brotherhood _always_ found their mark. _So what happens when they miss?_

* * *

Lucius stared up at the tower that made up the lobby of the Arcane University for only a moment before passing through the doors. As soon as he entered, he was hit by a wave of heat. There were no windows, no ventilation system he could see. The room was practically an oven. _Must be to discourage visitors. I pity the guy that got stuck with the receptionist job._

Said person was apparently sound asleep at the main desk, snoring loudly. _How can anyone sleep in this? Moreover, shouldn't a place that's the center of magical learning in all of Cyrodiil have a lot more visitors? I was expecting a stream of people, and yet there's not a soul._

He walked up to the half-moon desk and tapped noisily on the polished wooden surface. The man sitting there, garbed in a dull, blue robe that looked like it had been used as a rag for cleaning up spills, gave a violent start before looking up at Lucius while rubbing his eyes. He had dirty blonde hair and a young, innocent looking face. _Obviously an apprentice._

"Yes? Ah, what may I do for you, kind sir?"

Lucius blinked and almost did a double-take at the respectful tone used by the apprentice mage. "My name is Lucius Jucanis, and I'm here to see Virani Sintal. She's a Magician, last I heard. A real snooty Altmer, but very intelligent."

"Umm... Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name. The University's a big place and I... Oh right. You want me to go find her, right? But that would leave the desk unmanned, and I really-"

Lucius interrupted him by holding his hand up. "Easy there. Why don't you just call someone over to go find her, eh? That would be much easier, wouldn't it?"

"Why yes, you're right! Why didn't I think of that?"

Lucius sighed internally. This was already looking like it would be an annoyance.

The man got up from his seat and walked to one of the doors behind him, then opened it and peeked out into the courtyard. "Meryl? Meryl, is that you? Could you do me a favor? Yes, I need you to go fetch Magician Sintal. She's an Altmer. I don't know, check the library. Yes, yes, I'll owe you. Again, yes, I know."

The apprentice turned around with a smile, closing the door behind him. "Please take a seat sir. She'll be with you momentarily."

* * *

As it turned out, "momentarily" transformed into several hours, all of which Lucius spent listening to the young apprentice, whose name was Daniel, it turned out, ramble on about his life in the University. Lucius nearly fell asleep several times, but was afraid that if he were to do so in the insufferable heat of the lobby, that there might be some unfortunate consequences. He was about to get up and leave out of frustration when the door behind Daniel opened to reveal a young-looking Altmer woman.

She looked precisely as Lucius remembered, which wasn't all that strange considering her race. She still had the same, abnormally long golden hair that stretched all the way to the floor, and the same arrogant look on her face that always reminded Lucius slightly of a chipmunk. She paused for a moment to look at Lucius, then exclaimed quite loudly, "You! What do you want, you heathen?"

Daniel stared wide-eyed at the Altmer lady for several moments, but Lucius responded with ease. "Ah, so I'm the heathen, am I? I don't recall being the one with an unhealthy obsession with the undead."

Virani tried to splutter out a response, but Lucius quickly cut her off. "Listen. As much as I am loathe to admit it, I need a mage's help with something. And you're a professional. I like professionals. So can we please simply get this over with?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes and looking towards Daniel, motioning for him to leave the room. The young man left without hesitation, apparently eager to obey the orders of a superior. "Of course you know I can't let you in the University. Traven's idiotic new rulings, you understand."

"Of course," Lucius answered, in fact not being aware of any new rulings at all.

"Well, what is you want?"

"I need a dream interpreted."

Virani let out a surprised chuckle. "That's it? I can't be bothered with something so trivial. Go see a fortune teller or something for such nonsense."

"I think they're visions."

"Everyone does," the Altmer countered.

"Except not everyone has the same track record with magic as I do."

That gave the High Elf momentary pause. "Very well. Make it quick though, I have duties to attend to."

Lucius then went through explaining his "visions" that he had seen earlier in the day. By the time he was finished, Virani was eying him warily, perhaps searching for falsehoods in his words. Eventually, she sighed again. Lucius had lost track of how many times she had done that so far.

"How very typical. It would seem that you're having visions of possible future events. Or... You're just having dreams. Honestly, I wouldn't put too much worth or thought into such things. Even if they are visions of what's to come, the future is not something set in stone, so it's likely that what you saw will never occur. If that trivial matter is all you came to see me for, then I suggest you leave. I have better things to do with my time than entertain a Legionnaire that thinks he's a prophet or something."

Lucius rose from his seat, slightly angered by the Altmer's final remark. "Now hold on a moment. I never said any such thing!"

"Do you know how many people come through here every day thinking they're having visions of the future, that they see some untold destruction, that they're going to be the next Champion of Cyrodiil by saving the world from some cataclysmic event or some other nonsense?"

Lucius looked around the empty lobby, which had been vacant for his entire, several hour stay. "Hundreds, I'm sure," Lucius said, his voice dripping with a sarcasm and faint venom.

Virani's eyes flicked in annoyance before she turned around and swept for the door as only an Altmer of noble blood could. "Yes, well, what with the Necromancer's threat and all, we've had few visitors. But when we had an open-door policy, people would come flooding through here."

Lucius's eyes narrowed. He had heard nothing of issues with Necromancers. "What is this about the undead summoners, now?"

Virani froze in place, her hand on the door's handle. She slowly turned around and had a mixed look of surprise and annoyance on her face. "It's nothing for you to be concerned with. Guild business. The Empire has no right to interfere in it. Now off with you."

Her tone was civil enough, but he could detect and underlying threat in her words._ Get involved and you'll regret it. We'll deal with it ourselves._

"Very well then. Good day, Virani."

"To you as well, Lucius."

The Imperial turned on his heels and left the lobby from the way he had came, far more annoyed than he had been when he had come in. He had spent several hours in an unbearable heat, taken the ramblings of a teenage apprentice unsatisfied with the amount of work he had, and had gotten nothing for his troubles other than a handful of insults from an annoying High Elf.

"Just another day in the Legion."

**A/N:** _I'm disappointed with this chapter for two reasons. 1: It's so short, despite how long it took me to make. 2: I wrote it over the course of about a month, so it really, really feels like it doesn't flow at all and that bugs me. Plus, Lucius feels oddly out of character here. However, I just don't have the heart to go back and edit it anymore. I want this one out of the way and done with so I can move on, even if it isn't as good as I'd wish._


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Oblivion. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**Noblesse Oblige**

_**Act One**_

_Chapter Ten_

Lucius was now left with half the day remaining, and nowhere to go. His normal duties had been suspended, leaving him only with his investigation, and that had already been tucked away for later with his loved ones in danger. He thought briefly of visiting Orson, but decided that would not be for the best. He knew his friend well, and it wouldn't take a mind reader to see what would be plainly expressed on his face, if Lucius was correct. Orson would not want his pity, or his empathy. He would want to be left alone to deal with his ailing soul, which was slowly cracking at the thought of losing his sole reason for continuing. Should it shatter, as Lucius suspected it might, he would still wish to be left alone to grieve. Although, on reflection, the the Imperial wasn't entirely certain what form that would take.

Orson was a joker, usually flitting between seriousness and light-heartedness as the situation warranted. He knew when it was inappropriate to talk, but he was also aware that being serious all the time only resulted in being seen as a downer, as Lucius was painfully aware. There was no chance Orson would be able to treat this as a joke or a trick, however, no matter how deep in grief he might be. He wouldn't try to fool himself as such. Neither could Lucius see him accepting it either. The Breton's most likely course of action would be to throw himself into his work, but he couldn't even do that with things as they were, and attempted to seek out the Brotherhood in this situation would only result in frustration.

Orson was a good man, but if Lucius were to be truthful with himself, he didn't have much faith in Orson's ability under pressure. One way or another, whether Monica survived or not, he was going to break. It was only a matter of time. Lucius could see it in Orson's eyes when Monica had first been injured. The fall had started sometime before that, he thought in retrospect. Perhaps there had been some issue in their marriage, some argument. Something that Orson regretted. There had been signs of the strain there, if one had cared to look closer. Lucius had not.

He would not be able to maintain his facade of calm without his Monica, but he could not see her maintaining the relationship they had even if she managed to pull through. Not to even mention the fact that she would most likely never mentally recover from such an event in any case. Lucius had met many people that had survived attempts on their lives before. They were shellshocked at first, unable to respond to anything around them as they processed what had occurred to them. After that, they closed themselves off, put up walls to block out people. They lost their trust in others, and perhaps even their faith in themselves and their own judgement. They needed space to think, to come to a conclusion about what to do with their lives in the aftermath. Orson would not give her this space however. His caring demeanor, which Lucius had noted so often to be bordering on obsession, would be a hindrance here, not a help.

Orson most likely knew of all the signs just as Lucius did, but he would either not notice them in his wife or would ignore them. He would not be able to cut himself off. He was to deeply invested in the matter.

Lucius decided to stop thinking of the matter then and there as he nearly ran into a burly looking man. It was then that he realized he had managed to walk all the way to the docks on the waterfront. He was slightly shocked at himself. In his musings, he had completely lost track of his surroundings. It didn't take him that long to find his bearings, and he quickly turned himself around, only to find several men blocking his path. Lucius had seen them before. They were Ralinda's men.

Lucius's eyes narrowed, and he jerked his sword out of its scabbard as he heard footsteps behind him. He spun around and found the burly man he had run into earlier standing a few feet behind him with a few friends. Lucius also recognized them as part of Ralinda's crew. _Wonderful. I've managed to trap myself. I can already hear the lectures Orson is going to give me for this._

There were eight men in total, and none were wearing and decent armor. They had some very basic weaponry, mostly blunt clubs, with two men holding old looking sabers. Lucius would have been able to cut through them with ease were it a duel and he could take them one on one. But this was not the case, and these men would not play fair. When they attacked, they would hit him all at once. Immediately, his mind began working on a way to escape the situation.

"Why," Lucius began calmly, "do you men harry me like this? I am a Legionnaire if you've forgotten. I can make life very difficult for all of you, even in death. Surely you don't want the trouble that striking down a man of my rank will bring?"

"Trust me mate, we don't," the burly man from before snarled out.

"But it's a matter of honor! You caused our captain's death, so now we cause yours," another yelled.

Lucius sighed dejectedly, realizing he wouldn't be able to talk his way out now. "Why would you scumbags pick this moment to suddenly have morals?" he muttered under his breath.

He raised his sword and waited for the first blow to come. He was slightly surprised, but not disappointed, when the showdown was interrupted by an arrow slamming into the neck on one of the thugs behind him. He fell to the ground screaming in pain, and Lucius smirked, finding his chance and the other ruffians stared at their fallen friend, momentarily shocked.

Lucius charged the three men in front of him and slammed the hilt of his sword into the burly man's face. There was the sound of something breaking as he fell backwards, blood flying from his now shattered nose. As the other two shifted to turn and strike, Lucius flowed straight into the next striking position, his sword twisting to the left and flicking upwards, directly into the man on the right's side. The other man chocked back a cry and Lucius force the sword to move upwards and the thug slid down it, leaving a trail of blood on Lucius' sword. The third man finally brought his weapon to bear and struck out at Lucius, but he jumped to the right, narrowly avoiding losing an arm to the man's iron sword. His free hand shot forward, grabbing his counterpart's wrist and forcing it upwards, breaking it. As he screamed out in pain, Lucius slammed the hilt of his sword into the side of his head, knocking him into unconsciousness.

He turned to watch the remaining three men, who were looking on in something akin to awe and an immobilizing fear. None of the men he had just fought were dead, but the one he had cut might possibly bleed out. He didn't want to kill them, but he had no problem with it if that was where their stupidity led them.

The three pirates regained their composure faster than Lucius would have though, but it didn't last long before it was shattered by another arrow lodging itself in the leg of the other man with a sword. He screamed in pain and toppled over, grasping at the wound. The other two looked on, mortified, now realizing they had no chance at victory with an unknown person sniping at them. They grabbed their wounded friend, hauling him up by the arms, and took off as fast as their feet would carry them. Lucius decided to let them go, already tiring of the combat.

The sound of someone falling made him turn as he wiped the blood on his sword off on one of the wounded men. He sheathed his sword as a tall Dunmer with an Elven bow approached him, smiling widely. "Thank you very much muthsera. I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to dispose of those fools for some time now. They will trouble these docks no more now. Ah, but excuse me horrible manners! Salen Andalas, at your service."

"Who do you work for?" Lucius asked, frowning. People didn't just waltz into the harbor and start killing pirates. Aside from himself, apparently.

"Hmm?" the Dunmer wondered, staring distractedly at the still alive cutthroats. "Oh, oh right. Fighter's Guild. I'm Fighter's Guild. We were contacted to dispose of the men with as little bloodshed as possible, as the Legionnaires apparently would not send aid to this remote and area of the city. I can see our contact for this mission was mistaken though, as you are here."

Lucius coughed to hide a slight flush of shame. It was true, the Legion would not send any guards into this area. The criminal element was simply too strong. Lucius was still of the opinion that the entire place should be purged.

"Yes, well, I appreciate the assistance. I do not thnik I would have survived against their numbers if you had not provided such timely assistance."

The Dunmer smiled jovially as he responded. "I am not so sure of that, muthsera. You have a great deal of skill with that blade. Should you ever be released from your service in the Legion, I am sure the Guild will welcome you with open arms. You should consider it. I believe the pay is significantly better, for starters."

Lucius chuckled softly. "I will be sure to keep that option under consideration," he replied honestly.

Salen glanced back at the bodies on the docks, now frowning. "What of them? Should we not provide some assistance for them? I do not wish them all to die after all. I was merely sent her to prove a point."

Lucius glanced at them briefly, then flicked back to the Dunmer as he began to walk away. "Leave them. Let the Gods sort them out. If they survive out here until they are well enough to move under their own power once more, then they deserve their lives."

The Dunmer continued to frown as he reluctantly followed. "That seems very..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Practical," Lucius finished for him. "Why bother going to the effort of saving someone who will merely go back to their ways as soon as they are out of your sight. Those men know no other life, and as pitiable as that is, everyone is better off if they're dead." _And this way, I'm not directly responsible for their deaths_, Lucius thought, but didn't say.

"Except for them, of course."

"Well, they don't really have a say in the matter, do they," Lucius said, looking back in slight annoyance.

The Dunmer sighed. "As you say, muthsera."

"Now then, how about I buy you a drink for saving my life," Lucius offered.

"Now that is something I can agree to," the Dunmer responded, although he was still frowning slightly.


End file.
